


Wiedergutmachung

by halbermarco



Category: Laid Bare by P.B., Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Legilimency, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halbermarco/pseuds/halbermarco
Summary: Perseverance and fear were likely to go hand in hand in these trying times – but she had no doubt that one was stronger than the other. Thatshewas stronger than no other.





	Wiedergutmachung

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halbermarco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halbermarco/gifts).



> gotta warn ya boos and pals, at some point in this a woman is called a female dog, which is not okay, but is in there for... plot purposes. I felt ugly writing it in that context, and I apologize.

The wooden floor creaked beneath her feet, as she took one careful step after the other. It was a slow, a tentative tread – the last thing she needed was to arouse unwanted suspicion any more than she already had by coming back, moving around the city covered in a cloak that seemed to swallow her, on top of signalling to everyone that she was bad business.

Of course, it was a useless attempt, what with the awful screeching sound the floor would make nonetheless - no matter how light her movements were. Back when times were less dire, she used to complain about that very noise when they were lying in bed at night, cursing when one of their neighbors decided to go out at the worst times in the mornings.

These days, however, you avoided going out for as long as you were able, _especially_ at night times. It didn't surprise her to see the streets vast and empty of any living being once sun had set. She knew about some Followers roaming about this particular district, making residents escape to safer locations in the remote countryside before they could be apprehended, or sit it out in the hollowness of fear. Or, perhaps in some cases, it wasn’t fear that was the driving force behind a troubled mind – she hoped the return to her old apartment would prove that.

Perseverance and fear were highly likely to go hand in hand in these trying times – but she had no doubt that one was stronger than the other. That _she_ was stronger than no other.

Their apartment building was supposed to be old enough to have outlived several Wizarding Wars, including each of their respective victors. At least, that’s what the many, many books in her library had promised her before they moved in three years prior. Charms and spells cast centuries ago kept it standing upright, and a more or less comfortable place to live in. Despite its ancient history surpassing them in grandeur, she found a home in these walls she thought to never trade for anything.

She remembered the day they first stepped over the threshold together, warmth and love and adoration in their hearts – even before they had figured things out for themselves. Before this torment of a war had begun and torn them apart.

Of course, it felt different now, entering the apartment. Aside from the gravity of the situation dragging her spirits down, the absence of warmth - the ice-cold air didn't help improve her mood. Her every breath became visible in front of her eyes before it evaporated into thin air.

To add to the despair suffocating her in the entire living area, moon light only fell scarcely through the windows. All of them were shut close and loosely-covered by curtains, some of which torn as if a wild _beast_ had been set free and attempted to shred them to pieces, but gave up halfway through.

An unsettling feeling took over, and with a flick of her wand and a quiet murmur of, “ _Lumos_!”, she set out to investigate the real damage inflicted upon the apartment. As light flashed through the darkness, their living room appeared in a weak shimmer of white. For a moment, her breathing stopped at the surprising view that presented itself to her: Everything seemed to be as normal and ordinary-looking as she knew it to be, almost exactly how she remembered it. 

Alarm bells started to ring, and the dwelling panic within her mind demanded a quick revision of all the defensive spells she had learned in her years as an Auror. She almost expected a Dementor to jump out from a corner when she heard something moving in the shadows, and turned as fast as lightning towards the sound. With the wand in front of her, she approached the source of the movement as quietly as she could, ready to cast a Patronus charm if her suspicions did prove to be true.

To be overwhelmed by a much greater force was not as she had expected.

“ _Accio_ wand!” A voice called out of the gloom, pointing a wand at her and causing hers to fly out of her hand before she could prevent it. She wasn’t sure whether she felt relief at the person coming out of the shadows, or dread by the menace in her attacker’s voice. That was not the woman she remembered.

“Bren…” Tus whispered in a shaky breath, once Brenan had revealed herself fully, illuminating the ceiling light of the living room to a dim glow with a flick of Tus’ wand. With a sour taste in her mouth, she realized Brenan still had hers pointed at Tus, along with a look of clear distress on her face – she knew she was deserving of distrust and suspicion. But she hadn’t thought it would be that painful to endure.

“What was the first charm I helped you with in my fourth year?” Brenan asked her, face of steel and ready to hex the living hell out of Tus.

Tus expected the question and had her answer at the ready, “Fucking _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

If Brenan was satisfied with that answer, she made sure not show it.

“Out!” Brenan bellowed in a shrill voice, eyebrows creased together in fury.

Tus hurried to explain, “Bren, it’s just me, I—”

“I can see that it’s _just you_ , Tuskgon,” she replied in the same tone, putting Tus’ wand away. “And I say, out! Or I’ll curse you!”

Tus stared at her in disbelief, but obeyed and held her hands up and took a step towards Bren. She swore, “I am not here to hurt you, Brenan. You can trust me.”

“Like hell I can,” Brenan growled. When Tus attempted to get closer to her yet again, Brenan yelled, “ _Flipendo_!”

Without her wand to deflect the spell, Tus was knocked back by an invisible force, crashing into a cupboard behind her with a groan. Were it not for the close proximity to the wall, she would’ve landed on the hard floor.

Of course, Brenan would follow up on her words – she stayed true to them, after all, unlike someone else.

“Bren, please just let me explain,” Tus pleaded.

“Shut up!” Brenan interrupted, pointing the wand at her arm, “Show it to me.”

Tus swallowed. “What do you mean?” She asked, as if prolonging the inevitable would do her any good.

“You know exactly what I mean,” the woman above her countered, voice breaking under the heavy weight of fear and heartache. “Show me!” She demanded once again, as firm as she stood, and Tus’ nails dug into the edge of the cupboard she was holding onto.

“You don’t have to see this,” Tus tried. But Brenan’s eyes shone with an intensity that made it clear she wouldn’t let this go anytime soon. Tus saw her take a deep breath, and just a second later, Brenan aimed her wand at Tus’ left forearm. In a small voice, she said, “ _Revelio_.”

Against Tus’ will, the sleeve of her cloak moved out of the way to reveal the Mark on her arm – it was not as vibrant as it was when she had received it. Its movement had ceased, and the lines were no longer as pronounced. She hadn’t activated it in more than a month, it was barely visible.

Brenan stared at the Mark, an expression of disgust on her face. She lowered her wand slightly.

“So, it’s true,” she whispered after a few moments, lips pursed. As she looked between her Mark and Tus’ face, her eyes became glassy – Tus felt the overwhelming need to hold her in her arms, to protect her and tell her that everything was going to be fine.

But she wasn’t much for empty promises. And Brenan wouldn’t appreciate them, either – if the sad look on her face was anything to go by.

“So, what? Are you here to recruit me? Use whatever remaining devotion to you to convince me of their murderous doctrine?” Brenan asked with a furious stare, shooting daggers at Tus with her eyes alone. (If she really wanted to, Brenan could send actual daggers by just thinking about it – the thought made Tus feel giddy inside, both from being proud and scared of her powers as a witch.)

“They don’t know I’m here, Bren.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that? When there’s that—that fucking Mark on your arm that binds you to _him_?” Brenan’s voice turned to venom, making Tus’ blood run cold in its veins. “I would rather die than join Balderich.”

“I know, and if you’ll just let me explain myself, everything will make sense, I promise.”

Brenan shook her head, “You think after three months of radio silence, you can just barge in here like you still live here and expect me to listen to whatever perfect, self-serving story you’ve created to feel better for yourself?”

Gathering her entire Gryffindor courage, Tus withstood Brenan’s piercing gaze and said, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Brenan, shell-shocked by such a blunt answer, became even angrier, but didn’t say anything in response. Testing the waters, Tus continued, “Because I know you; whether you like it or not. And I know that you have faith in people, you believe in the good in everyone – even now. Maybe even after—after _this_.” She gestured towards her mark, still close to lifeless. After a pause, “I did this to protect you, Brenan.”

But Brenan only scoffed in disbelief, “Protect me? By allying yourself with the enemy’s side?”

“I took the Mark so you wouldn’t have to,” Tus explained, taking a deep breath. “They were looking for you, Brenan. Balderich wanted you specifically for his program because he knew how powerful you are. He wanted to use that power. To use you.”

Brenan’s glare softened around the edges, morphing into a questioning frown, “How do you know that?”

“Devan Balderich told me.”

Now _that_ had Brenan’s attention. She asked, “His son? His son told you about his plans?”

Tus nodded, “Yes. He reached out to me after the first battle – the only one in which your side— _our_ side has been victorious. Said his father didn’t like what happened there, and that he needed more skilled people among his Followers.”

“You should have let them come. I could have defended myself.”

“You were hurt!” Tus cried in defense, “They knew you were the most vulnerable, so they set out to get you. But I didn’t let them get this far. As soon as Devan’s message arrived, I left to convince them that you fled the country, that I didn’t know where you went because you—it doesn’t matter.

“Point is, it took me two months to convince them that you’re not important, but that my own intentions were as genuine as anyone else’s. Clear them of any suspicions they might have against me.”

Finally, Brenan lowered her wand completely, still gripping it forcefully – just in case, Tus knew.

“Why did Devan reach out to you? He could have told me, or the Guard. Why you?” Brenan asked, though she already knew the answer herself.

“Because I love you,” Tus proclaimed shamelessly, and to Brenan’s ears it sounded just the same as it always did. “He knew I would do anything to make sure you’re okay – and he was right, after all. Best way to ensure your safety was to keep you in the dark. Give you believable deniability, leave you out of press, away from wanted posters.

I know you don’t need protection like that. I mean, look at this place,” she trailed off, gesturing around herself. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in months. No one would think anyone still lives here.”

“With all this suspicious folk moving around the city it was a precaution I had to take if I wanted to stick around – I’m not stupid.”

Tus smirked, despite herself, “I know, Miss Ravenclaw Head Girl.”

Brenan gave her a look, and the smirk vanished immediately. She sobered up, “Seriously, though, Brenan… I’m glad you… I’m glad you know what to do.”

After several beats of silence, Brenan spoke up quietly, but firmly, “Do you have any idea what it felt like to wake up alone after the battle? No one had any idea where you were, it was like you had just vanished into thin air. And then, months later, still no messages from you – nothing but rumors starting to surface. About eyewitnesses seeing you. With the Mark. With known members of Balderich’s Followers. And I can tell you, it didn’t look very good for you – and no matter how much I doubted what I was seeing with my own eyes… it got harder and harder to deny that you had become one of them.”

Guilt ate at Tus’ insides as she slowly made for their sofa where Brenan had sat down, joining her. She bit her lips.

“Everyone asked me if it was true. And I didn’t know what to tell them,” Brenan finished miserably, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. The stress of this entire war had been getting to her lately, especially since Darwyn and Youri left for the States – without Tus, she had been completely on her own.

“I’m sorry,” Tus told her truthfully. “I didn’t mean to put you in that kind of situation. But anything was worth your safety, you’ve got to understand that.”

“You could have made sure of that by my side. You didn’t have to leave me,” Brenan said, and it hit Tus how much she had hurt her over the past three months.

“Maybe not,” she eventually relented. “It was kind of… an impulse decision.”

Brenan scoffed again, and Tus thought to have seen the tiniest bit of a smile on her lips, “Of course it was. Nothing’s ever not with you.”

Taking a leap, Tus quipped back, “I remember you liking that particular thing about me. So, joke’s on you, you chose this.”

“I’m mad, Tus. Right now, I haven’t chosen a single thing,” Brenan decided solemnly, growing tired from the talk.

“Right.” Tus felt awkward. But there was a reason she had come back to their home this very day, and she hadn’t brought it up yet.

Better cut to the chase, then, “Devan and I are leading a Resistance within his ranks, Brenan.”

“What?” Brenan looked up from her hands, staring at Tus in a newfound disbelief.

“It’s the reason I’ve come here tonight. Devan told me about his plans after I received the Mark, and… oh, man, the whole ordeal is a story for another time. Just—it wasn’t easy, in the beginning, all right.

“Either way, Devan and I believe that Balderich will strike a blow within the next two weeks, and Devan’s just working out when exactly. He is the only one I am still in contact with, and rarely ever. I have been erasing myself from their picture for three weeks now. Only a few hours ago, I deemed it safe enough to attempt seeking you out. I thought my best bet was to look here first.

“I would have… come to you sooner, but it would have been too dangerous for you. Until two days ago, I was being followed and I couldn’t risk them finding you through me – all of _this_ would have been for nothing.”

Then, Tus regarded her left arm, clutching the patch of skin with the horrendous mark with her other hand, “I may have disgraced myself and any values I might have ever had by receiving this. But this is the price I had to pay to come here. To be with you. And maybe to end this war once and for all.”

Tus let it sink in for a few minutes, anxious and even more anxious with each one that passed. When Brenan still didn’t give any reaction, Tus suggested something else. Something she had to endure several times during the investigations with Balderich – she was quite good at fighting it off, or, if she had to, at creating an entirely different image. But for Brenan, she would let all her guards down just this once.

“If you don’t believe my intentions to be true, you can… see for yourself,” she proposed, and offered a hand to hold in Brenan’s direction. Brenan regarded it curiously, as it was the same arm that bore the mark, the same hand she had held so many times in her life that it almost pained her not to take it now.

What was worse, though, was using Legilimency on the person she had trusted the most. It felt a lot like she was betraying her – or maybe, it would prove that these past three months of not knowing, of guessing and suspecting, were enough to erase any kind of faith she had. Brenan felt sick just thinking about it and told Tus as much, moving her hand away before standing up.

“No. I know what you’re implying here. I am not. I am not doing this.”

Tus sounded too hopeful, even to her own ears, “So you believe me?”

The one thing did not exclusively mean the other, Brenan realized. Their relationship had been greatly deterred by Tus’ feigned betrayal, though reason should never yield to emotion. But reason was telling her to trust Tus’ words fully, that what she told her was valuable and useful for their strategizing.

Emotion, however, was not nearly as forgiving. Emotion reminded her of the torture those three months were, and how little they did to assure her in their relationship. Uncertainty was dangerous these days, but it had grown on her again. Naturally, Brenan protested, “I hate that I’m having doubts about this. I hate that it just took three months without you to throw me off track.”

Tus’ face fell, but she nodded in understanding.

“Look,” she said. “You have every right to stay mad at me for… for everything I did, really. I did stuff I am not proud of, which I still feel… horrible about, and I will serve my time in Azkaban for it once the war is over. But for as long as it is still going on, I need you to believe me. Because if you will, everyone else will at least give me the benefit of a doubt.”

Searching her eyes, Tus repeated the same motion with her other hand, holding both out for Brenan. Never wavering in her gaze, Tus said, “Do what you have to do. You have my permission. And, for what it’s worth, my word that all you will see is the truth.”

After a moment, Brenan sat down again, letting out a shaky exhale as she took Tus’ hands in hers again. The sensation was too much all at once, especially since it was more of a gesture of trust than a necessity for the spell to work.

Legilimency was one of the many spells Brenan had perfected over the years, mostly from using it often as a special skill at work – a Healer could use it to help the mentally ill, to find the roots of troubles and problems so Brenan could treat her patient better and more individually. Most of the patients she had were easily frightened if one even so much as pointed a wand in their direction, so Brenan had come to perform it wandlessly and nonverbally.

There was no need to have Tus hold onto her hands like that. But to either woman, it was a small means of comfort. Something greatly missed in times apart.

“And you’re sure?” Brenan asked her, slightly dizzy from the touch and eyes trained on their joined hands.

“I am.”

Brenan took a deep breath to settle her nerves, sought eye-contact and whispered, “ _Legilimens_.”

And Tus didn’t block her out.

 

 

 

_“I’m so sorry, my love,” Tus whispered, silent tears running down her face. Brenan’s body appeared lifeless if not for her chest moving up and down._

_Tus left a kiss on her forehead, squeezing Brenan’s hand, “I will be back. I promise.”_

_Reluctantly, she let go, exiting the tent._

_A figure appeared in the darkness and didn’t lose a second to arrive before Tus’ eyes._

_“And you’re sure?” She asked._

_Devan Balderich nodded, a sad look on his face._

_Tus turned around, eyeing the makeshift emergency tent for their injured. Somewhere in there, Brenan was asleep after having taken a fatal blow to her legs and required immediate attention. Tus hadn’t moved from her side until she got the message from Devan._

_She turned back._

_“Let’s go, then.”_

_They disapparated from the spot, and the vision dissolved into black smoke._

 

_Devan stood beside his father, Percival Balderich, who eyed Tus with ruthless scrutiny._

_“This is not Brenan Dimooney, Devan. Why are you wasting my time with this useless half-blood?”_

_It took all of Tus’ energy to not lash out at him. Her anger was apparent to Brenan._

_She composed herself, “He brought me, so I could pledge allegiance to you, my Lord.”_

_Devan swallowed. Balderich considered her._

_“The battle has shown me the many flaws of those starry-eyed idealists. Their values of tolerance and integrity are useless in the greater scheme of things. So, I’ve decided I want to be on the winning side. Yours, Lord Balderich.”_

_Tus sounded decisive. It disgusted her._

_“Very well.”_

_He moved away from the scene, but called to Devan, “Prepare her for the investigation.”_

 

_Move. Get up. Talk._

_“Ask me questions and I will tell you what you want to know.”_

_No need. Legilimens._

_A resistance, eradicate it._

_Crucio._

_A cry of pain, then silence like death. A sharp inhale._

_Again. Legilimens._

_False images, false memories. Brenan fleeing from the scene, a heartbreaking argument – Tus and Brenan, no longer together. She doesn’t believe in you, my Lord. But she is gone, my Lord. She is of no more value._

_She’s gone, believe me. No lies, it’s all truth._

_Black smoke, and she’s gone._

 

_Balderich stood in front of her, Tus on her knees. He gestured to a figure in the shadows, demanding Veritaserum. A vial appeared in front of her, the content forced inside her. A bitter taste on her tongue, supposedly losing the very one._

_“Where is Dimooney?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_Blank faces, then angry faces._

_“Why isn’t it working?” Balderich demanded of his son, who shrunk back into himself._

_“It… it’s e-even more th-than th-the recommended dose. Sh-she… she’s telling the truth.”_

_Disbelief on Balderich’s face._

_He asked, “Why are you here?”_

_“To serve you, my Lord. To devote my life to you.”_

_A wary expression on Devan’s face. Jumpiness was the usual with him, no one but Tus noticed the difference this time. Balderich smirked in pleasure._

_“Who would have thought? A noble Gryffindor seeing our ways as the righteous ones. Delightful. Say, Filias Tuskgon, is it true that Dimooney has perfected several of the hardest mental spells even great Merlin struggled with?”_

_“To a certain extent, it’s true. She’s excelling at the easy ones, yes, and at Legilimency. But the others are just packs of lies to elevate her among the Guardians’ ranks – most of her person is exaggerated. Nothing about her is as big as the world oh-so-greatly tells.”_

_Balderich seemed to weigh her words over, huffing out bits of laughter._

_“The heroine of the Guardians, Brenan Dimooney is not such a heroine, after all. I should have known.”_

_“Another reason I came to you, my Lord. To uncover the façade, rob it of its power.”_

_“Hm,” Balderich sneered. “Certainly. Nevertheless, the Guard is a force not to be underestimated. Foolish perhaps, but strong, especially in numbers.”_

_“Nothing we cannot overcome, Lord Balderich. And if you’ll let me have your Mark, I will do my part in this as well,” Tus swore, eyes bright with sick enthusiasm._

_“Very well. Hold out your arm.”_

_Tus blocked out what followed._

 

 

_It was just them now, alone in a room Tus’ head called Devan’s. It was one of the brighter memories._

_“Liquid Luck?”_

_Devan smiled nervously, “Felix Felicis. The whole v-vial. I had hoped… your, uh, intentions were g-good.”_

_Tus shook her head in utter disbelief, “Thank you. I… I was so scared of what I said to him. I couldn’t believe that’s what I really thought.”_

_“Father… Father never listens. A-and he doesn’t know the difference between Veritaserum and, uh, lookalikes. Such as little Felix.”_

_Relief flooded her senses, and she felt giddy._

_“I can’t thank you enough, Devan. You’re remarkable. You saved her.”_

_Devan blushed at the praise, but shrugged her off, moving to the other side of the room, “I-I think you did.”_

_But Tus didn’t agree._

_Not with the mark on her forearm._

_“She’ll hate me for this.”_

_For a moment, Devan looked almost apologetically but his face cleared just as fast. That change in expression would always stay in Tus’ mind. It was like, all of a sudden, a new Devan came alive._

_“Don’t worry,” Devan smirked, mischief in his eyes. “I have a plan. This may yet prove useful to us.”_

 

_They were on a cornfield in the middle of the country, just after midnight. Tus hadn’t listened to Balderich’s instructions this time, mainly because it was their own group’s first attempt at recruiting the ‘weaker links’ among their ranks._

_What Balderich wanted was not priority – not that it ever was._

_“Why are we here again?” Tus asked one of the men accompanying her, both a little younger than her and desperately insecure about their membership. Devan told her they were in it for their parents – purebloods, respectively, wet behind the ears._

_Impressionable._

_If Balderich could convert them, so could Tus._

_“Aren’t you supposed to… like, lead us around here?” Said one._

_“Yeah, Balderich told_ you _what to do, not us,” the other chimed in._

_She rolled her eyes, “Oh, right.”_

_The two boys exchanged uncertain glances._

_“What is going on?”_

_“Nothing, Loreto. Nothing at all. Come on, we got somewhere to be.”_

_But then, she saw one of them point his wand at her; Arden Min-Su, naturally. Loreto didn’t have the guts, yet._

_“Oh, come on, Min-Su, you don’t really mean that.”_

_“I demand to know what’s going on, right now,” the Arden boy said in a growl. The other, Kendaal Loreto, rushed to his side, shushing him. “Ardy, don’t…”_

_“It’s fine,” Tus spoke calmly. “He deserves to know. You both do.”_

_Both gave her questioning looks. Tus smiled._

_“Before I say anything, you need to swear secrecy. This conversation is going to stay between us.”_

_Arden and Kendaal shared another look. Tus saw a familiarity between them, only visible to a viewer who experienced similar feelings._

_She ached for Brenan._

_When they nodded, she grinned, “Great. Let’s rebel, boys.”_

 

_A muggle woman on the ground, at the brink of consciousness. Quiet, broken pleas._

_People around her, laughing._

_“Please, don’t… please.”_

_A face turned to stone._

_“Come on, Tuskgon. Give the bitch what she deserves.”_

_Eyes locked on her. Aware of her fate._

_They’d know. They’d kill her. She was sorry._

_“Crucio.”_

_The scream followed her into the darkest of dreams._

_Just as many others would follow._

 

_“My father is planning an attack,” Devan said, sounding worried. He was sitting at a desk full of bottled potions, labeled neatly and positioned in a row, growing in size._

_Tus perked up from her position. “When?”_

_“I don’t know, yet. But I reckon in less than a month. You need to go into hiding now. Proceed as we’ve discussed._

_“It’s time to tell her.”_

_Tus‘ heart wanted to jump out of her chest – in fear or happiness, Tus could not tell. She nodded._

_“Take care, Devan.”_

_“You, too. See you soon.”_

_Quick and painless. Heart-wrenching goodbyes had to wait until later._

_Now she had a mission to fulfill._

 

As the last memory faded, they each took a shaky breath, trying to regain some composure. Brenan was the first to come down to earth as she noticed the tears rolling down Tus’ face.

“You’re crying,” she whispered, caressing her face with one hand to wipe the tears away.

Tus scoffed, opening her eyes to Brenan’s face in close proximity and to tears of her own on Brenan’s cheeks. She grinned, “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m emotional, Filias,” Brenan quipped sadly, leaning back against the cushions. An uncomfortable feeling of exhaustion came over her, and she had to close her eyes for a moment. “That was… a lot to swallow all at once. Especially…”

“Yeah,” Tus interrupted before Brenan could continue. “Wasn’t one of my proudest moments. None of it, actually.”

“I could tell,” Brenan agreed, and mustered her curiously, as if she was still considering everything she had seen but was unable to put it all in a box. As if everything would solve itself if she just looked hard enough.

Silence descended upon them as neither of the two knew how to go from here, with Tus having relived some of her worst memories, and Brenan watching everything, unable to change or do anything about it.

“Do you believe me, at least?” Tus broke through, a shimmer of hope in her eyes. But before Brenan could give an answer, she said, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for anything. Not right away, that is. But… I hope it’s enough. For now.”

“I believe you,” Brenan proclaimed instantly, and Tus’ heart soared. She let out a breath of relief and slumped back.

“Good. Good. I’m glad,” she murmured, more to herself than to Brenan. Then, with more volume, “I really am sorry, Bren.”

“Me, too.”

At Tus’ quizzical expression, Brenan explained, “For the… the Knockback Jinx. It was quite a bit violent.”

“Oh,” Tus started, but fell victim to a bout of involuntary laughter. This was absurd. “I, uh… I deserved that. So. Don’t apologize. Merlin, don’t apologize.”

Their laughter was quiet and barely there when Brenan joined, as if the loud declaration of joy was a crime in the otherwise silent apartment. However small this peace of mind was, both were in desperate need of it – they let it play out between them, not rushing the moment despite looming dangers expecting them outside of their bubble.

But as always, Brenan had to remind herself of a quote she lived by: Don’t waste your time or time will waste you.

Harsh enough, it was, to call all of this a waste of time – because it wasn’t, not even after months of nothing between them. But the war needed immediate attention, and as it was bigger than both of them combined, Brenan had to relent, after all.

“What happens now?” she asked, then. “What’s the plan?”

“Well… You need to inform the Guardians about recent developments, they’ll want to prepare for the worst case. You… will have to leave this place behind for good. All of you will, for the time being. When their final strike begins, known locations will be raided and everyone still residing will be in danger of being tortured—or worse,” Tus warned her, voice taking dark turns – although nothing compared to everyone else’s when they talked about the war.

Brenan nodded at the instructions, mentally preparing her message to the Guard for later. But one question still remained, “And what about you?”

For a moment, Tus stopped and considered. Devan had it put up to her: either, she could stay with Brenan as long as she let her. Or, secondly, she could join him again to fulfill their mission from the inside. Although being on the run for more than three weeks had provided her with a lot of time on her hands (if she wasn’t just about to concern herself with staying out of the Followers’ grasps), she hadn’t come to a decision yet.

Mostly, because she couldn’t return to either side just like that. While the Guardians might be more forgiving than Balderich was, she _had_ betrayed them – no matter how noble her intentions for joining the enemy’s side were.

She couldn’t even begin to fathom what would await her if she chose to help Devan. Balderich would end her sooner than she could even talk to her friend, let alone explain herself.

Maybe Devan was aware of that. Maybe he wanted her to stay with the person she loved. Sly bastard.

“Well, I can’t go back,” she decided, but stopped there. More than that, she couldn’t procure right now.

“So?” Brenan pressed on. Tus thought she had imagined the hopeful tilt of Brenan’s voice.

“I think… I think I’ll stay on the run until Devan reaches out to me… Then—then, I’ll help him bring his father’s reign to an end.”

Brenan drew a shaky breath, “And on whose side are you going to do that?”

Tus answered with a frown, “Devan is on your side, Brenan. Either way, we’re fighting to end Balderich and the war.”

But Brenan only smiled, an obvious strain to it. It seemed ugly on her face, and Tus felt guilty once more.

“No, you didn’t understand,” she said. “I… want to know if you are going to be by my side when the time comes.”

“I…” Tus mumbled, avoiding her eyes. Then, she turned the question around, asking Brenan, “Do you want me to?”

“Yes.” Brenan declared, unabashedly. Sometimes Tus asked herself why the Sorting Hat didn’t put her into Gryffindor for being bold at the most unexpected of times. The war certainly brought out a different side on her, only amplifying Tus’ confusion.

Then, Brenan sat up straight, gaze insistent on Tus. Sounding so sure of herself, Brenan continued, “In fact, I don’t want you to go now, either. I… couldn’t prevent you leaving last time, because I was—physically compromised. Not this time, though. This time, I am telling you to stay with me, so we can sort out everything together. I’ve lost three months with you. I would be a fool if I let you leave one more time before I didn’t even attempt to talk you out of it.”

Tus couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure? Even after…”

As Tus trailed off, Brenan took one hand in hers, squeezing tightly, and Tus' breath got stuck in her throat.

“Yes. Even after,” Brenan assured her. Hesitantly, Tus returned the squeeze to her hand, and sighed in relief. She couldn’t help but sense a ‘but’ floating around, so she wasn’t too surprised at Brenan’s next words.

“But the others won’t be as easily convinced as I am. We… we’ve lost good people because of spies who weren’t who we thought they were. Therefore, my word will not be enough to fully redeem you – it’ll be a start, but what comes after is up to you,” she explained, and Tus nodded thoughtfully. That, at least, she could take: she expected distrust, but she would do her best to eradicate it.

With Brenan by her side, she felt empowered and without any doubts. It was a weird sense of optimism, something she had not thought she was even capable of having.

“I… I will be of help to you. I promise. And I’ll… I will accept any form of punishment they see fit, just as long as they will at least listen to what I have to say,” Tus promised solemnly and after a pause, she dared to smile to herself. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“It was brave, what you did,” Brenan admitted softly after a while, and Tus was left shocked by her words just one more time. “Foolish and highly impetuous, certainly. Too rash and impulsive. It could have gone wrong in so many ways, you can’t believe how lucky you were,” Brenan reprimanded with a scowl, but grew softer as she continued with a small smile, “but brave, nonetheless. I wouldn’t have expected anything different from your infuriatingly fitting Gryffindor personality.”

With that, she let go of Tus’ hand and got up, reaching for a wand in her pockets. Quietly, she cast several spells around herself, and Tus watched, as the previous state of disorder she had seen as she entered earlier, came about in a matter of seconds.

When Brenan noticed her awestruck stare, she couldn’t contain the smile on her face, nor the playful remark that escaped her, “Has no one ever told you it is rude to stare?”

And it sounded so like them, as if nothing had changed between them – as if those three months never happened. They felt weird immediately – for it was a strange mixture of feelings. Longing overshadowed doubt and fear, but reason remained cautious. Not to mention the guilt and the shame Tus still felt nagging at her insides, especially for allowing herself to stay.

They shared a look full of meaning, full of confusion and a strange sort of hope. Tus stood up, then, walking over to where Brenan stood in the near darkness again, only illuminated by the faint white glow coming from one of their wands. Tus didn’t even care which one.

Brenan felt rooted to the ground all of a sudden, as Tus stopped in front of her, barely leaving any space between them. The wand in her hand fell to her side, and she gazed up at her (former?) lover in question.

She always hated when Tus made use of the height difference between them, mostly to tease her until Brenan fought back, casting a wandless spell that tickled Tus’s sensitive parts.

Right now, however, she realized Tus’ true intentions and opened her arms just as soon as Tus pulled her against her chest, holding her safely in her arms. A hand settled against the back of her head, caressing Brenan’s hair in slow, tender motions.

Both let out a sigh of content, staying in the comforting embrace for what felt like centuries. After months of craving and hoping to feel like this again, they were reunited at last.

“I love you,” Tus whispered, unwilling to break the tranquility she had created but unable to keep it in any longer. She didn’t expect a verbal response from Brenan, but the smaller woman tightened her arms around Tus, letting the gesture speak for itself.

“I know,” she replied unexpectedly, drawing back slightly to have a good look at Tus, whose face seemed to fuse love and guilt into one gigantic mess.

“I’m sorry, truly. I don’t deserve you,” Tus smiled in melancholy, before she attempted to let go of Brenan. She got caught off guard, though, as Brenan didn’t loosen her grip and stopped her. Then, arms slung themselves around Tus’ neck, keeping her in place.

With a smile on her lips, she said, “Remember the first time we kissed?”

A puzzled frown found itself on Tus’ face, which, somehow, made Brenan laugh a little. “Uh…”

“It was right here where we stand. Right after you told me you loved me… and wanted to be with me. You apologized back then, too. For less… serious things, yes. But you told me the same phrase: that you didn’t deserve me.

“Frankly, I do believe that’s a load of shit,” Brenan calmy assessed, and Tus snorted at the vulgar way Brenan had put it. Her face though, was as serious as ever. “This war made all of us do things we might not have done otherwise, nor ever wanted to do in order to defend ourselves _and_ our loved ones. That, to some extent, includes your actions, for which you are still responsible, yes.

“But what’s done is done, Filias,” Brenan concluded. “And I have no doubts that you are honest about your sorrow and your regret. We will all have lost parts of ourselves along the way, but what matters most,” hands settled on Tus’ cheeks, cupping her face, “is how we choose to go forward.”

Rendered speechless, Tus could only stare at her, mouth hanging open uncomfortably for a second. When Brenan’s hands dropped to her shoulders, she caught herself, her voice was just barely audible, “You haven’t changed one bit.” When Brenan wanted to reply, Tus stopped her, “And yet… You seem so different. More… mature, if that’s even possible.”

Brenan huffed shortly, “I had to be. Because you know what they say—”

“War either makes you, or breaks you,” Tus filled in the blanks, sounding a little wary. Brenan gave a nod, “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I like what this war did to us, though.”

For a while, Brenan didn't say anything, thoughts suddenly running wild in her head.

This wasn't how she wanted this to go.

“What if...” she began, breaking the silence. “What if we decide not to let it?”

Tus caught on immediately, but her eyebrows were creased together in confusion. It amazed her, what Brenan was suggesting.

“Why?”

“I’m tired,” Brenan said finally, but both knew she wasn't just talking about the physical exhaustion. “I’m tired of letting the war ruin everything I ever thought precious in my life. Above all things, that includes you. Us.”

“But...”

“All I know is that I haven't felt... this _safe_ in months. To be fair, I haven't felt this _conflicted_ for a while, either,” she laughed a little, despite herself. “But I love you. And I refuse to let this stupid fucking war change my mind about that.”

Tus could have died of happiness in that moment, instead, however, she opted for a kiss that was long, long overdue. It didn't surprise her when Brenan reciprocated with the enthusiasm only months of pent up emotions could procure. Tus moved closer, closer still and Brenan stood on her toes. That, despite what they were doing, made Tus laugh and break the kiss, leaning down to meet her halfway.

When they stopped, the distance between was kept to a bare minimum, both parties out of breath and obvious heat in their faces.

“You know… it’s kind of late,” Tus murmured. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

Brenan looked thoroughly unimpressed at the way Tus’ voice turned husky towards the end. And despite the offer's evidently tempting nature, she only gave a sly smile, rolling her eyes, “Nah. We have some obligations to fulfill, and a tough protocol to follow…”

“…And one last night in this apartment. We can… take one last risk before we’re diving into this whole mess again. We won’t have a moment to ourselves once we do.”

Brenan considered her, “A skeptic might say you’re only trying to seduce me to distract from your malicious plans.”

“Seeing as I am usually the skeptic,” Tus grinned easily. “I resent that implication. You can’t blame a woman for wanting to find peace of mind in her long-lost lover’s embrace after months of separation.”

“Did you steal that line from Youri?” she snorted in response. Tus looked rather appalled. “But, no. I can’t blame a woman. But I still think we shouldn’t stay here all night.”

Slowly, Tus exhaled, “Well, how about… an hour. Or two?”

“An hour?”

“Or two,” Tus emphasized again.

“That’s ambitious,” Brenan smirked, leaning in.

“What does that even mean?” Tus asked as she let herself be pulled in by her. Hot breath against cold skin answered, “That we’ll just have to make the most of it.”

Lips on hers showed force of expression, and two hours felt like eternity.

 

**Author's Note:**

> we do not care where the wands are and we pretend they just, like, conveniently float around at some point
> 
> also what the fuck was that ending right lmao no one cares bye


End file.
